Soldiers
by ChocolateMilk2
Summary: Some soldiers don't want to go to war. Some don't even want to join the army. Meet Cloud, forcibly recruited and hating every minute of it. But when a certain first class comes along, will all that change for good? ZxC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic is written Pre-Crisis core and won't run alongside canon. There will be slash and there will be OC's, and if you hate either of these I suggest you get out now. I promise I'll do my best to humanize them and not centralize them and avoid Mary-Sueism as much as possible.

Warning for coarse language, and dubious sexual content. Go back to google, kiddies.

Many guest appearances from minor characters will be in play. God bless those loveable shitheads. I haven't played Before Crisis or the original Playstation game so be prepared for bullcrap and did-not-do-the-research moments.

Without further ado, chapter one.

* * *

><p>His first day in Midgar and Cloud was already sweating. Whether it was the heat or the anticipation he couldn't be sure, but it might have had something to do with the manic psychophant weilding a megaphone looming before him.<p>

Oh yes, Cloud's drill seargent was a beefy man, bulging Popeye forarms and a taught, ever-grinding jaw. He looked over the cadets with a practiced glare, knuckles cracking in preparation or resignation.

"Ten laps to start you lousy shitpiles, and be quick about it. No whinging and no bludging," he commanded. No one moved. "Well? The hell you waiting for!"

The bark was enough to startle the most of them into submission, and Cloud, at the front of the queue, had to break into a sprint. Other, fitter cadets quickly overtook him and by the second lap around the four-hundred metre racetrack, he was determined not to be the first one to crack. Their drill seargeant stood aside, hurling expletives at them through a megaphone, punctuating their deathly quiet.

Cloud was in no way used to or built for this kind of physical exertion. Despite being a born and bred mountain boy he had a small, trim figure that all kinds of muscle and fat instantly slid off. He needn't run back at home, as the most energy had to be saved for food-gathering walks; the monsters around Nibelheim were too dangerous to be hunted for food.

By the third lap they were nearly all panting, excluding one tall cadet who had broken into a mild sweat the moment they started running. City rat, he looked like, with the long ragged hair and overpierced ears.

They had their base uniform on- blue slacks and a plain top only, which meant all their running across track had to be done barefoot. They wouldn't get their regular fitted uniform until they were actually sent on field mission: like most things at Shinra, comfort was a priveledge and not a right. Cloud wished he'd worn a singlet now, as the heavy cloth of his winter sleeveless weighed on him.

Two hundred metres each way, according to the flaking paint at the start lines, and ten laps meant it was more than he'd ever ran in his life. Four whole kilometres. His mouth watered for a drink and his feet ached for a rest. His breath released in bursts, his head throbbed, he began to trail behind.

"Keep up, slackers. Any slower and the moon'll rise and overtake you. What do you think this is, a holiday?" Cloud exchanged a sympathetic look with the boy next to him, squat with a mop of shiny black hair. They sped.

"Run like you mean it, shitheads! Is ten laps so bloody much to ask for these days? Minevra up high."

Their drill seargent didn't seem like much of a religious man, so Cloud just figured he was saying it to shit them. Lungs heaving, sweat pouring down his brow, Cloud began to stumble. This time he wasn't the first. Three others had stopped, and one boy was heaving behind a dirt pit.

One by one the others collapsed, and the seargent raised the peramiter to twenty laps, then fourty, as all the cadets were weeded out one by one. In the end only the long-haired boy was left, making his rounds as requested while the others endured the seargent's torment. By the end of it, Cloud didn't think he ever wanted to see the running track again, and a heavy stone lodged in his stomach at the thought he'd have to return tommorrow.

Whatever motivation he'd built up for this class had teetered to a stop. His feet screamed and his legs ached and Cloud didn't envy the guys who had actually tried to start running again after their bodies collapsed. Technically the punishment for falling short was push ups, but their seargant just seemed happy to bitch at them laying there and leave it at that. Stupid loser got a microphone for his efforts. Wasn't it torment enough just to hear the man yell without it screeching about every which way?

The last hour they were begrudgingly dismissed, and a half felt round of applause and a few back slaps went out for their obvious endurance runner, who doubled over panting.

Fresh, blessed water. Well, stale, coppery Shinra water-bubbler water, but that wasn't the point. Cloud stood in that accursed line for ten minutes before he got the flash of liquid back down his veins, and tried not to sigh too happily when his thirst was finally quenched.

They hadn't even been shown the toilets and the bell sounded, announcing them another class. This time it was inventory and stocktake theory, which covered their basic supplies (toilet paper, Cloud was pertuerbed to note, was not one) and military comands.

Not that any of them would ever be doing any real taction work themselves; everyone knew Soldier was just the brunt of the operation. They were told to copy out _I will follow the orders of my commanding officer at all times_ twenty times, and then another fifty for homework. And then their teacher proceeded to list the few situations when they could ignore the order of a commanding officer, noting that those few were practically ridiculous as with the professionalism of trained Soldiers in all likelihood they'd never happen anyway. What a joke.

Third class was Materia and the cadet program was so well underfunded they could only fit three classes a day for fear of a time clash with their active superior officers. So that was why Cloud's drill seargent was such an asshole. Cloud'd be pretty mad too if he had to go out on field work and come back and teach all day. God, why didn't they just use retirees?

Cloud sat by himself. "There are eighty-eight types of materia currently known to Shinra," their teacher, bald and bored-looking, droned. "Later, when the printer starts working, you will recieve a list of all relevant Materia, their slot usage and clearance levels. For now, all you need to know is their five types- Spell, Summon, Support, Command and Independent. Our society is highly reliant on Materia, as it powers our phones, watches, streetlights, everything. As such it is mined heavily in the northern plains by a Shinra outpost. Unfortunately as a non-renewable resource Materia use is highly regulated and the rarer types are non-accessible to all but the richest of us today."

Did everyone know this stuff? Cloud wondered, penning down notes in their regulation notebook. At Nibelheim you knew what it was, what it did, not neccesserily how it powered your car and that was enough to get by. Was working with Materia in Soldier really that convoluted, or were they just covering all the grounds to justify the danger element? The class was rowdy for this lesson though, obviously eager to have dinner and find the barracks, so Cloud didn't dare raise his hand and break the status quo.

The final bell went with a blare and Cloud smiled, trying to restrain his show of excitement as the teacher looked over. He moved slow, and was the sole person to actually pack his book away in the box, so he was left standing by himself while the exasperated man shouted at the cadets to all come back push their chairs in as they rushed out the door.

He sighed. "This job wasn't made for a softie like me. If you could lend me a hand with those chairs, son?"

Cloud complied, and packed all the books away in the box when he was done. "If that's all," he said, and the man nodded his dismissal.

Dinner was being served at the mess hall, wherever that was (they hadn't been told, Cloud had no idea how the other cadets had known) and Cloud wandered around the ground floor looking. When he couldn't find it in the main building he wandered out of their grounds and into the second building. After he'd gotten off the bus from the main Shinra HQ they'd completely bypasses there, and maybe it being the mess hall was why.

Cloud slipped through the steel front doors and reached a desk, where a stern looking secretary sat typing into her computer. This didn't look like the mess hall...

"Excuse me, could you tell me-"

The secretary's head snapped up. "Cadets aren't allowed here."

Just then the double door burst open, and a man in a purple uniform held on a long stretcher was pulled through.

His lime green eyes hit Cloud's. "Angel," he whispered, and his escorts frantically screeched about medical emergency ovverides in the background. His face was pale and sweating, and he raised one shaky, gloved hand towards Cloud. "Angel, angel, Angeal..."

Cloud stood stone still as the Soildier was carted off into the other room, still trying to turn backwards towards him. The secretary eventually regained enough of her former awares to snap, "what are you still doing here?"

Asking directions would be stupid now. Cloud, utterly chastised, turned and left the medical block, trudging back to the main building in stupor. The man had called him an angel. With his fine, delicate features and cool blue eyes it wasn't like Cloud wasn't used to compliments, but it was the first time anyone had called him that before. With such emotion on his face too, and from a senior ranking officer?

The guy was obviously off his face, Cloud told himself. Still, it hurt him to think that the war with Wutai might be so devestating as to make someone look to a complete stranger in foolish hope.

Cloud was no angel. He'd come to join the cadets at Shinra because he'd drawn the short straw and been conscripted, not out of any hero worship for Sephiroth or the president or any of those other pipe-dreams idols other boys his age had. Cloud planned to fail his cadetship marginally, join the regular army and work off his five year minimum before retiring to a grueling but familiar life of farming and trading around the shit lands and marketplace back home. Violence, patriotism, fame... these things held no love for him.

The receptionist of the main building, politer, asked how she could help him. _End the war,_ Cloud thought.

"Could you tell me where the mess hall is?" he asked.

"Upstairs and to your right," she replied. Cloud mentally groaned and refused to put his head in his hands. Of all the places... "I'm afraid it's too late to be served now, however."

"Oh," Cloud said. He took the lift up and the signs on the corridor directed him straight there.

The mess hall was a maze of seats and faces, alive with the hum of chatter. Rambunctuous boys banged trays, flipped knives and threw food.

Somehow between the crowd and movement and chatter Cloud caught sight of the boy he'd exchanged an understanding glance with during Fitness Training.

Cloud found his feet and walked over, taking a seat across from the boy. Conversation fell quiet in his wake.

"Where've you been?" the boy asked curiously.

"Toilet," Cloud lied.

"Geez, you musta been at the end of the line," the other inferred. He grinned. "Were you busting?"

Cloud mumbled something inaudible, inspecting the veneer of the table.

"James Hitmund," introduced the boy. He pointed at the others individually, "this is Craig, Georgie and Arklan. We were just about to head off."

"Fine by me."

The guys stood as a unit, donning their trays atop the trash can on the way out. "Gonna start feeding the trays into the trash one day, just to see what happens," the eldest looking, Georgie, commented.

"Just demerits and lunch ladies who hate you," said the blonde, Arklan. "Trust me, not worth it."

"And you would know," Georgie shot back.

Craig cut in before an argument could develop. "Hey pretty boy, these _assholes _here didn't let you introduce yourself. Ignore them. So what's your name, buddy?"

Cloud stared into the face of teenage oppression. "Strife," he answered.

Georgie burst out laughing, stopping short in the hallway. "Is that a stage name or what? You can't seriously tell me that's your real name dude. So what is it, symbolic for the strife you give your enemies?"

I think I'd like to see some strife put on you, Cloud thought. "Do you want to see my ID card?" he asked, straight-faced.

James laughed at Georgie, who stared at him dubiously. "Ooh, burn. But we're not like those TV gangs that go around calling peole by their last names. You can tell us it, we won't laugh."

Cloud shot James a look that said he better not. "My name is Cloud Strife," he said clearly, daring anyone to call it.

Arklan came to his rescue. "Strange accent you got there buddy. Anything to do with anything?"

"Oh yeah," Cloud replied. "I come from the western continent, a small town called Nibelheim. Everyone's very big on the traditional back there, so quite a lot of us are given bizarre names."

Craig made a sound like understanding, and they entered the elevator.

"Hey, what floor's our barracks again?" James asked.

Georgie rolled his eyes. "Basement one, idiot." He thwacked the small button.

Cloud once again expereinced the inertia and displacement that came along with elevators, and he tried not to close his eyes. Midgar was weird.

"Well this is us," James announced, stepping out and pulling Cloud with him. "Later, guys."

"Later, asswipe," Georgie said, with a grin that said otherwise. Arklan stepped out and threw him the finger.

"Hey hey hey," James said, letting go of Cloud. "Down with the aggression, man. You just met."

"Yeah, and he's a complete dick," Arklan defended. "What's your room number?"

"Five," James said.

"Nine," Arklan replied, looking dissapointed. "Hey, what about you Cloud?"

Cloud checked his card. "I'm in nine as well."

"Sweet! I call top bunk." Arklan threw a wave at James and raced down the hallways.

James made a helpless jesture. "Hey, what can you do? Good luck with him."

"Thank you," Cloud said, sincerely. "It was good to meet you today."

"Any time," James replied, and ruffled his hair. "Later."

Cloud walked into his room, feeling distinctly unruffled.

"The chocobo returns," Arklan intoned. "Hey, have you seen that movie? It's really good."

Cloud threw him an odd look. "They don't have televisions in Nibelheim."

"They _don't_?" Arklan demanded, jumping up. "Oh my god! Is this for real? Oh god. It is. This is terrible! Scratch that, it's a bloody outrage. We have to fix this immeadiately, Cloud."

Arklan clicked his fingers. "That's it. You and me, the movies. This Saturday. We have to."

"Okay," said Cloud, somewhat bemused.

"It's a deal." Arklan said, throwing himself down on one of the bunk beds.

Cloud swallowed. "Umm, Arklan," he started, kneading his hands. "That second building, off campus. What's it for?"

"Oh that?" Arklan said lightly. "That's where they send all the victims of war they don't have time to ship to the main headquaters. All the serious injuries you can't repair with Heal or Esuna. Lots of kids there, sad stuff. Why did you want to know?"

"I thought we might have a class there," Cloud said. "How did you know about it?"

"Everyone in Midgar knows," Arklan replied. As if on cue, the Midgarian boy from earlier, the endurance runner, entered in.

"This room nine?" he asked, setting a pack down.

Arklan said it was. Cloud watched as the runner unzipped the pack, pulled out a book, and began to read. He looked over and notice they weren't carrying anything. "Your stuff's all down at Head Office. They'll let you go get it now, if you want."

"I might do that," Arklan said. "Cloud?"

Cloud shook his head; he didn't think he wanted the face the shame of having almost nothing packed right now.

He knew when he was at home that he didn't want to take anything that might get wrecked, but he longed for something precious now. A hot drink packed from his mother, a photo or a phone.

The endurance runner looked over again. "Your name really Cloud?"

Cloud folded his arms. "Hey, _his _name is Arklan."

"Whatever." The boy returned to his book, looking slightly amused.

Cloud frowned up into the bed above him, claimed previously by Arklan. "There's four bunks, we must be misssing-"

The door slammed open, and a prematurely tall, bandanna-wearing, muscle built teenager stomped inwards. "Fucking late train made me miss the first day of class," he cursed, throwing his bag down by the door. He held out a hand to the runner boy. "Shears Harley."

"Mitch Sorrenson," Mitch said, taking it. "Apparently that's a Cloud."

Shears took Cloud's slight form in. "Why's the hell someone like you in the army?" he inquired.

Someone like _him_? Cloud found that offesnive on so many levels and worked on giving the guy a piece of his mind. Except damn, he was twice Cloud's size.

"Conscription," Cloud said, trying not to sound too resentful. "That going to be a problem?"

"Hell no. Who'd you think I am, avalanche?" Shears took the top bunk, instantly straining the metal frame however many kilos of muscle. "Tough luck, man. You really pulled the short straw there."

"Yeah, I know."

They made idle chatter, testing the waters until Arklan returned. "Lights out in five, guys," he revealed. "Gotta be up at dawn tommorrow they say."

Cloud rolled over on his lumpy mattress, considering the wall. _Only five more years,_ he told himself.

If he knew what was to come he might not have even bothered trying to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The dawn service was held, predictably, at dawn. Some loud trap old guy barrelled into their room before the morning was even broke and yelled at them to get up and dress and he wanted those cotton sheets _smooth, damnit._ Bleary-eyed Cloud struggled out of bed, haphazardly tucking the sheet edges under the bedframe, to leave.

Arklan was having an awesome time whining about it. "Can't believe they just threw on the lights like that while we were sleeping. I heard those blaring trumpets in the loudspeaker and I swear we were about to be attacked or something. Freaked me utterly out."

"Yeah, we heard," said Shears. Arklan scowled.

Cloud caught James's eye in the hallway. "Hey, do you know what this meeting's for?"

James turned, looking nervous. "Oh yeah. It's one of those motivational speeches you get from president Shinra and all the big wigs. Bunch of crap really."

"Riiight," Cloud said. He stepped on something small in the hallway and frowned. Their uniform really needed shoes.

They collected in the meeting hall, level four; this time they had to use the stairs. There were more cadets stamping around than Cloud had seen even in the mess hall last night, and he tried to guess the numbers without too much looking around. Two hundred? Three? Nibelheim had a total population of seventy six people. Cloud felt inexplicably watched, overshadowed by all these hopefuls swarming around.

Midgar was one hell of a city.

There weren't enough chairs for the lot of them, so all the cadets had to stand at attention and watch. James couldn't see far past the Hulk towering before him, and Cloud had to fill him in on what was happening in low tones.

Sephiroth appeared to take the microphone, and all manner of talk ceased. There was a menace about him; all six feet held taught, face careful, movements smooth. A wash of silver hair spilled over his shoulder, falling into the weave of his belted, buckled coat. Instantly Cloud could see why the man was so respected, and revered.

"Cadets." The smooth, sinuous voice pressed through the speaker system.

Arklan's gaze snapped to James. "He alright?"

Cloud followed his eyes. James, deathly pale, had begun swaying on the spot. He smiled weakly at Cloud, holding up a shaky hand in dismissal. It was the only movement in the solemn, still crowd.

Before Sephiroth had chance to say anything else, James collapsed to the ground with a noisy bang.

Every head turned their way. Sephiroth lowered the microphone. James was out cold on the ground, sprawled in an awkward position around their socks. Cloud took the silent, penetrating stares of the other cadets, and the curious department heads. Arklan swallowed.

Cloud knelt down, scooping James off the floor and making for the walkway, face stony. It was a good thing James was smaller than him because Cloud knew he wouldn't have a hope in hell of carrying him out otherwise.

The burn of eyes scorched his back and Cloud marched and stared straight forward, avoiding the gazes. This had to be acceptable. Was it really that of course, picking up a fainted peer and taking him away from the meeting?

Was he supposed to wait for the medic team to arrive? Well, fuck them all if he was. Cloud hadn't even wanted to join the army in the first place, he didn't particularly care if he got kicked out. How was he just supposed to leave someone lying there like that?

The thought of informal punishment though… Cloud didn't think he could stand it if he got bashed up by someone like Shears for shaming them. Man, just for anything. He'd have to be careful, it was the cadet program, of course there'd be tanks and bullies out there waiting to get him.

Cloud strode through the metal doors of the hall, which closed somewhat fatalistically behind him. A man in sunglasses and a black suit like a bouncer frowned at Cloud, who let out a deep breath.

"Do you know where the Cadet medical area is?" asked Cloud, who did _not_ want another visit to the emergency block.

The man shrugged, looking away as if he wasn't worth the passing attention.

So Cloud went downstairs – in the elevator, shit – and asked the nice receptionist sipping coffee instead. She pointed him to behind the materia and natural science classrooms, first door on the right. Except it was only 5 AM (0500 hours, Cloud corrected himself) and none of the nurses were in yet. Cloud had to wait outside the office, James's dead weight slumped beside him.

"You're heavier than you look, you know," Cloud told him idly. "Maybe you should try a bit harder in track racing to lose some weight."

The sleeping form let him get away with it, which was more than fine by Cloud. From everyone else, he was in sooo much trouble. The cadet groaned into his hands. To think he thought he'd gotten off to a good start yesterday.

"That was a good thing you did back there."

Cloud jumped halfway out of his skin at the appearance of the – straight faced_ –_ dark-haired Soldier beside him. He was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as if he'd been observing them for some while. Cloud's face blushed scarlet as he recalled their first meeting, if you could call it that. Was this really the same Soldier who'd needed to be carted in on a stretcher, head beyond delirious? Embarrassing.

"Thank you, sir," said Cloud, somewhat dumbstruck.

The soldier shrugged away the honorific. "At ease. Not that you need anyone to tell you that, right? Broke form right in front of General Sephiroth."

Cloud groaned again at the reminder, setting his head on the medical ward door. "Don't remind me. How much trouble am I in, honestly?"

"Honestly?" the soldier echoed. "Standing to attention in respect is the basest rule. Questioning or undermining the authority of a superior officer, especially one as ranking as General fucking Sephiroth… well it's a non-judicial offense off the field. At worst, your ass is on the street, but knowing Shinra you're probably just going to get off with forfeiture of pay. Shinra's cheap like that."

Cloud frowned. "But all cadets pay are entrance fees. We don't _get paid_ as you see it."

"A pay-cut in advance then, for when you finally join Soldier." The Soldier himself said it was like a given, adjusting his bangs through gloves. "Expect a lot of off-the-record attention, though. You can't just go around disrespecting whoever you like."

"James, you better be damn thankful," Cloud muttered. What had he been thinking? "So sir, if it's not going to get me shot for asking, what are you doing with me down here? You're not the off-the-record attention, are you?"

"Nahh," replied the soldier. "They've got your teachers for that. I just figured the guy there could do with an opened door."

"Well why didn't you say so before?" demanded Cloud, annoyed. That weight had been pressing against him _all that time._

"Do you want me to unlock it, or not?" asked the soldier rudely. But he was already reaching for his ID card, and he swiped it through the door once neatly.

Cloud and he pushed into the room, and the soldier set James down carefully on one of the sick beds. Cloud was slightly offended by how easily the guy could bear the heavy weight. He could at least pretend to struggle.

"How come you can get in here, when you're not a medic?" Cloud asked.

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "How do you know I'm not?" he said enigmatically, and then promptly ruined it. "All Third Classes have basic clearance allowances. Most just don't abuse them like I do."

"Huh," Cloud muttered, taking a seat at the basin counter.

"Speaking of abusing privileges," Zack said, checking his phone. "You have a class to get to, buddy. I better work on keeping my awesome physique. Later, alright?"

Cloud raised a hand in goodbye, hopping down off the counter. He blinked; the soldier had already sped right off.

Cloud made for the door, throwing a look over his shoulder at James. He didn't want to just _leave_ the guy there, but he wasn't going to do the creepy selfless nice thing again and get in twice as much trouble. Instead of waiting, Cloud scratched a memo on the back of some doctorish note paper and tacked it to the door.

His first class was… what the hell was his first class? Damn it Cloud, Cloud thought to himself, shape up. Get your gear together. Don't walk into the materia class you had yesterday and embarrass yourself despite the urge.

For lack of better thing to do, Cloud went to the help desk, where the nice lady was still on shift. How long were her shifts, anyway? Poor thing.

"Oh hello again Cloud," the nice lady said. "In trouble once more, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately," Cloud admitted. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have the cadet class timetables on that thing, would you?" He pointed to the computer.

She grinned. "Cadet, I'm not a miracle worker. But you can check your class timetable on the notice board beside the library block if you know your role number."

That he did; it'd been announced the second they'd been called off the bus, when they'd been asked to split up, and she knew it. Yes!

"Thank you so, so much," Cloud said, grinning back at her. "I'll make it up to you, alright? Anything you ever want."

"How about a pay rise?" she asked, and Cloud laughed and walked off. The notice board said he had Basic Combat in Area Two. 0600 hours, and that was a good few minutes ago. Cloud smirked; lucky he didn't go in that Materia classroom.

Cloud knocked on the door to his next class, and waited nervously outside in the hallway. The woman who was presumably his teacher, a butch, tank woman with short hair greeted him curtly.

"So you're the boy wonder. Well take your goodwill elsewhere, I can't take your sort."

"My sort?" Cloud replied dubiously.

"That's ma'am to you, runt. And yes, your sort. You're on suspension without pay until further notice, in case you haven't heard, and if you ask me that's getting off lightly. I give my boys extra duties and records of disapproval for the type of thing you did."

"I was just helping someone," Cloud defended.

"Well do me a favour and help yourself," the teacher snarled. "I have a class to teach." She shut the door.

Cloud walked to the elevator in a daze. He thought he should go to the secretary – the secretary would know what to do – but he didn't think he wanted to ruin her day with that kind of admission. Surely she wouldn't have told him to go to class if he knew.

Cloud found the elevator and felt even more depressed. His dorm mates were probably working their asses off right now, and there he was, taking the lift like a regular fatso. Its doors shut by itself and one the third floor was already lit by the last person, so it took Cloud there without a direction.

"Hey, keep it open for me!" a voice yelled down the corridor and obligingly, Cloud stuck his hand out. "Thanks man," the soldier said as he entered, and then recognized him. "Well hey. Class over already?"

Cloud winced. "Not exactly. I've been suspended until however long."

"Hey, seriously?" the soldier tugged on his arm in the elevator. "Sorry to hear it. Ride down to ground floor with me?"

Considering the guy could snap him like a twig if he disagreed? "Why not."

"Okay then," the lift doors closed softy, behind Cloud's head. He swallowed, pulled so close to the soldier; Cloud swore he could find summer sky blue in the midst of mako green. "I'm Zack Fair," Zack Fair said.

"Cloud Strife."

Zack smiled gently; Cloud braced himself for the mockery, jeering, a silent snicker.

"What a perfect name for an angel," Zack said.


	3. Chapter 3

Thankfully, Zack seemed content to farewell him at the elevator and leave his company at that. But he did pull an agreement to meet him for lunch one afternoon out of Cloud, whose heart was beating madly in his ears.

So Zack did remember that meeting. Cloud punched a dent in the wall, breathing harshly into his undershirt. Everyone was always taunting him about goddamn everything. His looks, his smarts, his speech pattern… and now this. One bad reaction and Zack was going to milk his embarrassment for all his worth. An _angel_. It wasn't even funny.

The dumb guy probably laughed about it behind his back with all his stupid Soldier-ass friends.

Cloud was never going to live this down and he knew it. Honestly he didn't know why he'd thought Nibelheim would be any different.

Cloud sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. This wouldn't be looking very good on the security cameras when they replayed it. The cadet moved back into the elevator, riding up to the top, roof, floor.

The wind was something terrible, slamming into him as he moved towards a ledge. The Shinra maintenance building wasn't as large as the HQ in Sector Zero, but twenty floors was enough to make anyone feel nauseous. Cloud sat close to the edge, feeling the invisible Barrier suspended before him, some kind of safety measure.

Midgar spread out before him, smoking and glimmering apartments rising tall in the steamed heat of the day. Every path and road ran neat and controlled, curving little hair strand curves. Beneath the edge of the plate, rotting were the slums, wild and colourful with rust. The reactors overshadowed them, vulgar white smoke pummeling the air. There were only two that Cloud could see, one behind and one in front, and the sheer size that implied scared him.

Several minutes passed, and Cloud thought the cool wind on his face cleared his head a little, even if it hurt his ears. His stomach was starting to complain and he thought he might leave it and go back downstairs, curiosity sated.

He wasn't sure if breakfast was after their first class or second, and found himself alone in the vast space of the mess hall, bigger without the cadets.

"Someone's eager," a voice from behind him laughed. Cloud spun, facing a burly teenager with long hair slipping out of a hairnet. He wore camouflage gear and metal-capped boots and Cloud vaguely recalled that was what the proper Cadet uniform was supposed to look like. "What class you skip to get here this early?"

Cloud watched as the guy ducked behind the counter and unpacked the back cupboard, setting milk and no-brand oats on the silver sheeting above. Finding himself loathe to repeat the suspension story, Cloud averted, "Basic combat," and frowned when the blue shorts had no pockets to put his hands in. "Who you piss of to get this shit job?" he returned.

The lunchlady – Cloud internally snickered – sighed into his stack of plastic bowls. "My firearms coach. He found us dicking around with these toy guns we brought in for a joke and pitched a massive fit."

"Wow," Cloud said admiringly. "Why'd you do it?"

The other Cadet shrugged. "We knew he'd been looking for an excuse to give us lunch duty anyway since the last gang's time was almost done, and figured hey, he's going to give us it either way, we mose well go and deserve it."

"Except you got in more trouble then you thought."

"Pretty much," the cadet said, swiping the counter with his cloth angrily. "You ever see Coach Hasting's around, tell him he's a real dick from me."

"Sure thing," Cloud replied, getting his porridge. The cadet told Cloud the cereal was gross, best saved for enemies and Cloud took his word for it. The porridge wasn't very nice either, like eating hunks of dried and soggy clay, but Cloud was starved and he stomached it. He thought he might kill some time and write a letter to his ma, but wherever he went no one seemed to have any spare paper.

Not the receptionist (whose shift had been filled by an evil blasphemist), or the cleaner, or the _librarian_ for pity's sake knew where to get some. Cloud had a nasty feeling someone out there was playing an awful prank on him and stormed back to the barracks, deigning to buy some with his spare change at the newsagents.

He didn't have much. The shopkeep watched intently as Cloud sifted through the hardcover notebooks stacked against the display rack, examining covers and pricetags. His inquiring gaze didn't sway, and Cloud found himself getting frustrated. Was it because he was a _teenager_? Or because he was wearing a Shinra uniform, disregarding whether it was of his own accord?

"What's the deal with these prices," Cloud said, slamming a notebook back down. "This is a paper stand, not a swish restaurant."

"You don't like it, you can get out right now," the shopkeeper lectured, in the assurance of prepared speech. "I'm telling you my prices are exactly the same as Lavell's down the road."

Midgar. Cloud snorted and saw himself out, soles of his feet digging in the pebbled path as he strode down the street. What was he supposed to do now? He had to write a letter to his ma, or else she'd think he'd died or got lost or something. The plate was too expensive and the slums would probably get him lynched. What was he supposed to do?

The obvious and frustratingly annoying answer hit him; go see Zack Fair. Zack had the resources and the expenses to make obtaining letter and envelope a breeze, and the personality that meant Cloud wouldn't owe him. If only Zack hadn't told Cloud where to find him for their lunch date Cloud could have an excuse not to seek him out.

But Cloud's decision to appease his mother outweighed his desire to avoid Zack, and Cloud found himself chilling out in the barracks until he knew the guy's training shift was over. To pass the time, Cloud read one of Mitchell's books. (It wasn't like he'd been snooping, the thing had been lying right there on the bed.)

It was a fairy tale of sorts, about a gardener and a woodcutter. The woodcutter hired the gardener for his garden because he was a little too good at pruning- they got on tolerably at best. One day the woodcutter went to work and found the gardener had chained himself to a tree in his forest, alongside other environmental activists.

The gardener didn't have many friends as an activist at that time so the woodcutter and his co-workers simply cut down all the other trees people weren't chained to. The woodcutter hardly expected the activists to return the next morning after that failure of a protest session and he was right on half counts.

The activists weren't there anymore, but their leftovers were. For each tree that had been cut down, saplings were planted in their place. The woodcutter put down his axe and went home. He signed his resignation that afternoon, and never cut down a tree again.

The whole thing was very blantantly symbolistic for Shinra and the wonders it did for the planet, planting trees, supplying energy, and Cloud stared up at the top bunk with a heavy sigh.

Yeah, Shinra was so damn _good._ Outsourcing to Wutai because they were losing favour at home thanks to reactor health risks and then starting a whole bloody war when Wutai disagreed.

All that senseless violence, and killing… Cloud couldn't stand it. He was ashamed to call himself part of the operations that funded Shinra. Why had it had to happen? Why were the bastards just so damn evil?

Cloud had lunch with the guys from the barracks in the mess hall, and they told him all about how many muscles they'd pulled and the stitches they'd got. He played with his stew, angry despite himself. He didn't want to get involved, but Cloud didn't want to fall behind and be ostracized for it either. You never knew how quickly a supposed ally could turn on you.

Zack had told him to meet him at his apartment in Sector Five if he wanted to catch up, and luckily Cloud could afford the train fair there without hassle. The apartment was tall and luxurious made out of a shiny metal silver Cloud couldn't place. It was weird, when Cloud was used to seeing little stone shanty houses and wide fences to keep out the wolves. People were just so open, and exposed.

There wasn't a free button upwards like in the Shinra elevator, you had to speak into this microphone and wait for the information to filter up before you could pass through. It took a long time for Cloud to master the record button, as you had to hold it down for the length you wanted to speak and not just press it once.

Cloud groaned as he repeated for the umpteenth time he needed to get upstairs to talk to his friend, Zack Fair.

"What? Your voice was breaking up."

"Oh, for Planet's sake just let on him up, Christopher," the third floor woman's voice sounded amusedly beside the phone. "Gaia help Zack if he can't take care of one technology-impaired teenager."

That seemed to be the cue to go, and Cloud stepped into the glass elevator, breath catching as it sped. The view was nice but there was something nauseating about watching the ground rush away from your feet.

Cloud rapped on the apartment door. "Zack?"

There was a pause, the sound of something being tripped over, heavy footsteaps, and then Zack answered the door. "Cloud!" he said excitedly. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. Cashing in on that free lunch?"

"The barracks food isn't quite that bad," Cloud replied. "Actually, I just came to borrow some paper."

Zack gave him an odd look. "You came three sectors over just to use some paper," he deadpanned.

"Yes, if that's alright," Cloud replied. "I'll pay you back."

The odd look still didn't abate. "Don't worry about it," Zack said. "Man, I'm sure we've got a notepad around here somewhere. "Somewhere beneath the mess of this coffee table…" You couldn't even tell it was a coffee table, it was so stacked with newspaper and take out and memos. Zack's apartment was pretty nice, but his obscure taste – a giant plastic banana? – and general untidiness took away from it something.

Zack cleared his throat and Cloud stop staring around, accepting the notepad abashedly. "Oh, and I'll also need some envelopes," he realized.

The soldier let out a long-suffering sigh. "The things I do. One moment, Cloud." He strode into the adjourning room, opening and closing a lot of drawers until he found the one he wanted. "Here we go, a ten pack. That good enough?"

"You're just going to give them away?" Cloud asked unbelievingly. "Just like that?"

Zack shrugged. "The way I see it, your need is greater than mine." His expression became calculating. "Unless you want to owe me?"

"No, I mean if it's a gift…" Cloud trailed off, staring up at Zack's incredulous face. Midgar people couldn't be like this. When Cloud thought Zack wouldn't make him owe, he meant he wouldn't hold a grudge for it. Back home everyone squeezed pennies out of everything. "This is because I'm poor, isn't it. You feel sorry for me."

"No!" Zack replied loudly, sounding scandalized. "Of course not, I was trying to be _helpful_, that's all. If anything really it's the opposite of charity. I've just got too much, I spend all my pay on the most frivolous things that I don't ever use. It's doing me a favour getting rid of it."

"Why don't you ever use anything?" Cloud asked, curious despite himself.

The soldier folder his arms. "Basically, I'm out way too much. Either I'm under the plate or on-mission or crashing in the gym at work. This place is a bit of a waste of gil, come to think. I use it more as a storage centre than anything."

Cloud hummed. "Okay. Thanks for explaining that to me. We do it a bit differently back where I come from."

"Oh yeah?" Zack said. "And where might that be?"

"Nibelheim," Cloud muttered.

"Nibel-what?"

"Nibelheim."

"Never heard of it," Zack admitted sheepishly. "And I've been a lot of places. Not offshore, is it?"

"You caught me," Cloud said. "What about you? I swear you've got something inter-continental going on behind that Midgar drawl."

"Yeah, I herald from the proud town of Gongaga!" Zack proclaimed. "Best mountain-climbing of them all in Gongaga. It's all the rage back home. Hey, you want a drink?"

Cloud shook his head, settling in on the spotted leather couch and admiring some sort of remote control. "Hey Zack, what's this for?" He pressed the red button, and a dark screen on the wall lit up, revealing a hyper-realistic woman in a freshly pressed blouse and jacket, speaking with a cultured voice right to Cloud. The screen zoomed in on the woman for a moment and for a moment her head was even bigger than his.

"This is so _weird_!" Cloud exclaimed, entranced. Zack walked back and set a coke down on the coffee table. "What is this strange magic?"

Zack laughed. "It's called television, young one. Learn it well." Cloud jumped as the scene suddenly cut to a smoky plain, machine gun racket blasting right into the room. Zack frowned and took control of the remote control, changing its picture with a click of a button.

Cloud stared at the beautifully rendered animated drawings, drawn in without meaning to be. "We have radio back home, but the only person who can actually get reception for TV is the mayor, because he lives on the high hill. And even when we went on an excursion to his house and saw it the thing was only as large as a box, with all these little dials on its face for tuning the picture. This…"

"It's something, isn't it?" Zack agreed. For a moment they watched as bunny hit a person on the head with a hammer. "You get used to it, though. Hey, so tell me about your life in Nibelheim."

Cloud's face shut down. "It's alright I guess," he acknowledged. "We're so backwoods we don't really get anything shipped in from any of the major cities, so nearly everyone in town is self-reliant. They homeschool you at the constable's house until you're twelve, but I had to drop out because my mother needed me at home. Basically you work all day and sleep all night, and then get up and do it again."

"Okay, so that's Nibelheim for us," Zack said. "Tell me about _your_ life there."

Couldn't he tell Cloud didn't want to talk about it? But it was nice to have someone ask. And if Zack had been from Midgar, maybe Cloud wouldn't tell him, but another country boy might understand.

"The townspeople don't really like our family much because my mother married an outsider. Not that she even kept him for long enough for it to matter. Everyone has to work off the land but because of its harsh, rocky nature no one can harvest much. Because of that everyone gets very competitive about trading and buying, and because of my mother's infamous reputation I always seem to have to pay more. Nobody liked me as a kid because I was quiet and I had girly features. So I had to change, and then they sent me here. There, are you happy now?"

"Whoa," Zack said quietly. "I wasn't aware it was quite that big a thing. I just thought you were being shy, not talking about yourself… I shouldn't have asked. We can drop it."

Cloud hesitated. "No… Just one thing. I know you said 'do you want to owe me?' as a joke and all, but it would probably make me feel better if I did. It's just a social thing, everyone does it. So could we do that and be even?"

An understanding flitted through Zack's face. "It's not really necessary, but if it makes you feel better, then why not?"

"Okay," Cloud said, relieved. Suddenly he got nervous. "So what're you going to ask of me?"

An evil expression passed over Zack's face. "Oh you know… life slavery, assassinations, sexual favours. The usual."

"Zack!" screeched Cloud, astounded. He felt a giggle creeping up his throat and hit Zack with the loungue cushion to cover it up. "Don't joke about that."

"Okay, okay." Zack set down his coke glass and though. "Well… what about personal training?"

"Are you trying to have a go at me?" Cloud demanded, knowing the limits of his physique too well.

"Welll," Zack drawled, folding his arms in certain assessment. "If you don't want to return to your shitty hometown, you'll join Soldier. To join Soldier, you'll need to train. To train well while on indefinite suspension, you need me."

"What makes you think I even want to join Soldier in the first place?" Cloud responded. "Honestly I would rather live out my poor, tormented existence alone back in Nibelheim than ever join the likes of Shinra."

Zack raised an eyebrow. "Then why'd you join the cadet program in the first place?"

"They made me, weren't you listening?" Cloud harrumphed.

A brief, slightly awkward silence overtook them, and then Zack affectionately ruffled his hair. "Even still. If you're smart, you'll take lessons from me anyway."

"Oh yeah, and why's that?"

"Because you've got a rebellious streak," Zack replied. Cloud immediately rose to argue, and Zack spoke over him. "That's not necessarily a bad thing. You're proud of your opinions, good for you. But a lot of people in the cadet program aren't going to like that."

Cloud caught on. "What's in it for you?"

"Other than the reassurance of your welfare?" Zack asked. "Not really that much. But the way Shinra's been operating lately… they're desperate for troops, but they're not going to send me back into action so soon after the absolute balls up I made of my last mission. I'm still recovering medically too, they won't let me out that far. But I get bored easily, and I need something to do to tide me over while I'm in Midgar."

"And that's it?" Cloud checked.

"Well maybe it'll help me with my leadership skills. But other than that, there are no ulterior motives, I swear it. I like fighting, I like socializing, it's the perfect deal."

"That's the thing," Cloud said. "I don't like fighting _or_ socializing. I don't want to learn how to hurt someone."

"Try your brand of solitary confinement for however long it lasts and see how much you like being anti-social," Zack rebuffed. "Nahh, I don't mean that. Just…" Zack stood up from his chair, stretching. "Whether or not you know how to hurt someone, you're going to do it anyway. Emotionally, if not physically. I think it's better off to know how much something can hurt and to take that into account when you get into a fight than not to know and to end up doing something you might regret."

Well Cloud couldn't argue with that. He hated to admit it, but Zack was right, in some form if not in another. "If it's just self-defense you'll teach me," Cloud said reluctantly, "then I suppose it would be okay. But you have to go easy on me! I'm not one of your soldier buddies who can shrug off lethal hits, okay?"

"Got it!" Zack chirped brightly, and fistpumped. "_Yes._ You don't know how much fun this's going to be, Cloud buddy. We're going to have an absolute blast. I promise you you won't regret it."

"I better not," Cloud said insolently, causing Zack to laugh.

He checked his watch. "So how about that lunch?"


	4. Chapter 4

Hi guys, how's it. Just posting to say this chapter has graphic violence (I know, I didn't expect it either. Wrong headspace I think) and the rating remains a solid M from me. You'll know it when it comes.

Also, sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I do try to keep it bi-weekly.

* * *

><p>The café they went to dressed itself more like a restaurant than anything, and the expectant waiter silently led them up the granite staircase which spiralled around the building-side, bridging itself from the youthful splendour of 'uptown' district seven. Cloud felt easily self-conscious in his bare feet and open shoulder-singlet, and the cool breeze of mild heights tickled the back of his neck.<p>

Zack grinned at him – "they serve the best lobster marinate here," - and nodded at the next waiter who opened one arching door for them. The inside was a domed, octagonal room filled with lightly chattering patrons and plush velvet couches. From somewhere around the bar area, light chords thrummed in a smart overtone.

"This way," said a waitress this time, tone courteous and face composed. She lead them out onto the balcony, and offered them a table for two beside restored stone railing.

They sat. Cloud stared across at Zack, who immediately picked up a menu. "You pre-booked."

Zack raised one furry eyebrow from behind its leather-bound casing. "Problem?"

"That's awfully presumptuous of you," Cloud said, crossing his arms around the table edge. "What were you going to do if I said no?"

"Invite Kunsel," Zack said cheerily, and Cloud stared at him in disbelief. Did he seriously just admit that? Didn't he…

No apology seemed evident on Zack's partially obscured and smirking face, so Cloud huffed and picked up his own menu. Immediately his eyebrows followed that raised suit. Were the chefs honestly dumb? You could buy a small civilisation for the price of one item on their menu. And possibly several corner-store notebooks.

"Don't you prefer the view to sector Zero?" Zack asked. "I hate all those sky scrapers and industrial buildings. The cranes are fun to jump off, though."

"You jump off cranes," Cloud repeated, menu dropping from his fingers.

"Yep," Zack replied. "Trains too."

Another – androgynous – waiter or waitress came to serve them, collecting their menus and asking what they'd like to drink.

"Ultima with whisky," Zack said, and without missing a beat, "and an OJ for the small fry."

The waiter smiled and rolled his eyes and Cloud glared at Zack until she left. "You're so full of yourself," he deduced, smacking a hand down. "Oww. Was that a man or a woman?"

"Why don't you go ask," Zack suggested, and Cloud returned his glare back to him. "You know they serve moogle here?"

Cloud didn't let himself be distracted. "Who's Kunsel?"

"Like seriously," continued Zack, "aren't moogles a protected species? My grandma's got one and it never goes out of the house, maybe it fears for its life…"

Cloud snorted. "I'm sure it appreciates your concern."

"Hey, don't laugh! Moogle-saving is a serious issue I'll have you know."

"You going to save the cacti too? A few tonberries and chocobo on the side?"

Zack made a highly affronted noise, fluffing his napkin like a pillow. "Please, don't insult me. Tonberries are dark and highly disgraceful creatures."

Cloud grinned evilly. "You get on the bad side of a rabid tonberry?"

"It wasn't rabid exactly," Zack recalled, and a waiter set their drinks down. "Okay, I'll tell you the story. So I was trucking along the north continent on a mission with a few guys looking for some monsters breaking the Icicle region border. So basically there were a whole lot of us because dangerous creatures blah blah blah and we were working in formation expecting to be attacked as a unit. The medics had a constant barrier going around the front line and I have to say the rest of us were doing pretty well. But then suddenly this tonberry king _jumps out of nowhere_ and launches right at me and before we can make time to cover this massive swarm of tonberries has me completely down everywhere.

"No way," said Cloud, snorting his juice.

"Way. So there I am, scrambling for my sword with all these makeshift spears and flaming torches being shoved in my face, and the more tonberries I kill the more run at me, and Kunsel's yelling for the others to get help because he has absolutely no idea what's going on, and _then_ we get this order on our pagers from Director Lazard that the mission's aborted and everybody needs to get back to HQ. Half the squad leaves me there under a bloody mound of tonberries and of course I have no idea what's going on all I know is all my team's deserting me, I'm not looking at my friggin' pager, and everyone who's left has to wall me and by the end of it and then all of a sudden the lot of them teleport off."

"Hmm," Cloud said, taking another sip of his orange juice to a avoid reply. It could be true, but it probably wasn't. "Sounds kind of ridiculous."

"Before you dismiss me entirely," Zack said, holding up a hand, "I'd just got back from the Gold Saucer. They have this _stupid_ thing in one of the casino's, if you've heard, called the Battle Square. It's sort of like cock fighting except with humans and monsters. And basically, before I went on the North Crater mission my friend and I went there and got drunk. Being drunk, my friend got this stupid idea for us to go in the battle arena and bet on me and drunkenly, I agreed. Apparently I'd slaughtered about a dozen tonberries the week before we went on mission and because of my hangover, I had no idea of it. So reeking of the blood of their fallen companions I wandered willingly into tonberry territory, and you know the rest of it."

"Man." And Cloud couldn't help himself, he laughed. "Are you sure you don't want to pass on that whisky?"

Zack looked down and smiled, too. "Don't worry about it. I can take a lot more than I could back then, and we had a hell of a lot that night."

"The downsides of mako, huh?" Cloud said, and the smile wiped instantly off Zack's face. Cloud regretted it, although he wasn't sure why.

Their waiter cleared her throat. "Orders, please."

"Right!" Zack smacked his hand down. "One Wagyu beef and a Risotto Alla Kristina. Thankyou."

The waiter strided off. "Could you stop doing that?" Cloud asked Zack.

Zack stared. "They were both supposed to be for me. Suppose I should call him back?"

"Wait, why are you ordering yourself two main courses?" Cloud backpedalled.

"I eat like a—you know. It's the other downside of being a Soldier." Cloud snickered, and Zack raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you're the one going without meals you know. And the food they serve back at the mess hall isn't exactly fine cuisine."

"Trust me, I know," Cloud said. "I had porridge this morning and it tasted like boiled cornflakes."

"That's because it is boiled cornflakes." Zack grinned in sudden realization. "Ooh, looks like I caught ya. What happened to 'the barracks food isn't all that bad', Cloud?"

"It didn't settle properly," Cloud defended, and the waiter set the steaming food down. Before Zack could take it Cloud drew the risotto over. "Hey, you asked me here. A gracious host's gotta act the part."

"I could ask you away, too," Zack sulked, poking at his beef. Just as soon as he had begun contemplating it the meal was put down his throat and Zack was looking up at Cloud expectantly. "Planing on eating that?"

Cloud curled an arm around his risotto protectively. "Maybe if you weren't gawking at me," he tried, and then dropped the show. "Seriously, how did you do just that? Do you have like a detachable jaw tucked away back there or something? What's the deal?"

Zack beamed, obviously pleased by the compliment. "How kind of you to say, but no. We Soldiers have high energy levels and fast metabolisms. It's a wondrous combination."

"I'm sure it is," said Cloud as he watched an feebly old, shawled woman lowered into a seat across from them aside from their table. She was led by someone much younger and burlier, and they made an odd sort of couple. "Hey, is that my combat instructor? Oh god, it is. Quickly Zack, don't say anything let's-"

It was too late. Zack conspicuously turned around at the mention and embraced the burly woman with a warm yell. "Trisha! Long time no see, buddy. And the lady. Ahh Trish, last I heard you were shipped out to sea with the fisheries. Still giving those roughens the time of day?"

Cloud waited for the rebuke, the sharp, outraged intake of breath, but none returned. Instead, evil of all evils, the crazy woman who'd told him straight-out yesterday he was suspended and likely spawn of the devil, smiled admittingly. "Oh, Zack. You betcha I am. But you know, gotta give it a rest some time or another. Here alone?"

Zack pulled Cloud out from behind him. "Nahh, I made a new friend, dragged him up kicking and screaming. Cloud, this my old combat instructor, Patricia Fields."

"Hi, ma'am," Cloud warbeled. Evil Lady's grin flatered and her eyes narrowed into an expression of distaste.

"Cadet." Her gaze returned to Zack and the appreciative smile returned. "Stealing my pawns off me now, are you? You better watch out." She landed a solid punch on Zack's shoulder, who shrugged it off effortlessly and laughed.

"We were just going!" Cloud screeched, and latched onto Zack's arm.

Zack didn't seem to take the hint. "Hey, how long are you visiting family for? I could arrange some of the guys and we could drop around and have a get together."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Cloud's combat instructor said, and patted Zack on the other arm. "I'm just staying for a few weeks with mum, here. I'm heading back on the eighteenth, I think?"

"The nineteenth, dearie," corrected the old lady. "Oh that brings me back, I can remember all those letters from the high sea, I didn't think you'd ever return from those patrols love…"

The old woman rambled on, Zack and 'Patricia' engaging in light conversation over their travels, Zack even pulling up a chair. Cloud tugged at Zack's arm meaningfully, but maybe all that Mako meant his nerves were shot.

"Alright," Zack eventually, _finally_, conceded. "Probably should head off before your food gets any colder. Good to meet you Mrs Fields, and Trish, maybe I can take you up on that class reunion?

"I'm counting on it." They waved and smiled their goodbyes, and Cloud succeeded in luring Zack towards the café's front counter.

"Why did you put me through that?" Cloud demanded, hitting Zack on the arm.

"Oww. Zack abuse!" said Zack.

"It doesn't count when you can't feel it," Cloud said petulantly, and Zack turned his attention to the counter.

The bill was dealt with politely, worldlessly, but Cloud's eyes still boggled at the figure on the receipt.

"What a waste of money," he said when he was sure no one could hear them.

"I told you, I've got gil to burn," Zack said, and jumped the steps four by three.

"You could like, burn a whole bonfire with that amount," Cloud said. "Like, if you've got all that and you want to spend it on fun times, like why not just buy out a pool and a spa and spend the day there having a water fight?"

Zack smacked his hands together. "That settles it. Next time we go out I'm buying us a water park and bringing the supersoakers."

"What? You can't be serious!" exclaimed Cloud.

"Only too serious," Zack intoned, swinging around and grabbing Cloud by the hands. "You can call me Zack Fairly serious."

"I think I'll just stick to Zack."

"Sure, angel." Zack's fingers were caught between Cloud's hands and he stared deeply into Cloud's eyes. Breaking the moment, Zack's stomach grumbled. "Ahh. There's that metabolism I was talking about. You don't fancy burning some more gil with me at a noodle bar?"

"Nahh, I'm stuffed," Cloud said. He'd gotten an awful lot of eating done while Zack was suitably distracted. "Do you just want to leave it at that until tomorrow?"

"Don't forget our training sessions!" Zack sang, already breaking off into a jog.

"But we didn't even organize a time for it! And if I exercised right now I'd puke… Hey, you never told me who Kunsel is. And stop jumping off trains!"

"Never!" Zack yelled, and blew a kiss after him. Cloud stood at the bottom of the café steps next to the leading waiter who could possibly also be a bouncer, feeling strangely violated.

Well, whatever. The train was cheap fare (they probably had to make it that for the people who lived under the plate, Cloud thought idly) so he began to pace back towards it with a strange feeling in his chest.

Oh, that was why. He'd shoved the pencil and paper pad under there when it was established the café was slightly swish. Cloud smiled to himself, and sat down with it after he bought himself a train ticket. Now was probably the best time to pen the letter to his mother. Tolerable the barracks might be, but they didn't exactly speak wonders for personal privacy.

_Dear Ma, _Cloud wrote.

_I miss you. It's cold here in Midgar but it's not as chilled as the snowy mountains back home. Even so I can't help but wish you were here so we could sit down with thick blankets and drink hot marmalade together._

_It's hard to imagine our quiet life is real when faced with the daily hustle and bustle of the city._ At this point Cloud had to stand to actually board the train. _Even when the helicopter was first taking us across-country and you could see above all the sloping mountains I thought were impassable when I was a kid, there was a sense of unreality. But once you get here and realize how immediate everything is the idea that people can take their time at things seems to fade away. You can't help it, expecting everything instantly and effortlessly._

_You would be amazed, ma. They have these massive screens in the apartment houses that show people current events at the touch of a finger. Above the plate hardly feels real with all its order, and you wonder how buildings can grow so tall and straight without shattering with the effort of it._

_They have trains, which are nice and cheap for me to get around, and these things which are like upwards trains called elevators. The boy I shared the helicopter ride with was telling me about these tall glowing poles called traffic lights, but I haven't seen any yet._

_I suppose it's not so bad. It's the army and the conditions aren't great, but they could be worse. I should tell you I've been suspended. I'm not even sure why really, I just know that I am. I expect you'll be disappointed with me. But should I really take advantage of an opportunity I don't even want? Say I did get into Soldier. How many people who actually wanted to get in would suffer for it?_

_I'm not sure what to make of the people here. Maybe I should take your advice and worry about myself instead. But sometimes you have to worry about them to worry about yourself, you know?_

_I made the trip here safe in case you couldn't tell, and stay strong, I'll be back home in five years. Don't wait for me._

_Love from,  
>Cloud.<em>

Cloud folded the letter and sealed it in an envelope, fiddling with the ornate pen. It was made of metal and had some sort of abstract design on it. He wondered what he should do with the rest of the afternoon, since he had hours to kill before group dinner.

He ended up strolling around the barracks library. The nice receptionist for the ground floor was back in and she coaxed him around the back of the desk and showed him the funny email her school friend sent her. Then she explained to him what an email was, and gave him a get well card to deliver to the sick officer on the ninth floor.

She couldn't leave the cubicle, and Cloud thought it was kind of sad. The sick man told him to tell Miranda he said thankyou. Cloud asked him what was wrong with him and the nurse slammed the door.

The library had seemed allright after that, as it was the main place he hadn't explored. After the librarian had told him she didn't have any paper Cloud didn't think he would come back. He browsed through the non-fiction section, quite large, which had titles like _Shinra Trade History _and _A study of Mideel Fallacy_. They also had an Icelandish dictionary, which Cloud thought was quite cool, until he realized they spoke the exact same language in the Icicle region.

The non-fiction section was quite small and Cloud settled in with the book of near-fairytales Shears had back in the barracks. He liked the bright, neat pictures and once he finished it he started on another, with page-large illustrations. Cloud felt a small pang of sorrow in him then, as he wondered what his life could've been like if he hadn't been conscribed for Shinra. He could've learned how to paint with the juice of the berry bushes, mixing purples and blues and charcoal black. And if anyone from the town ever annoyed him, he wouldn't think to fight, he could share some berries or squirt juice in their eyes.

That made him smile, as he remembered the vengeful bullies of his youth. As they'd grown older they'd gotten too busy to ever think to torment him, and maybe too conceited. Either way Cloud had been fine with his alienation, as they left him the backwoods to explore. He already missed the tangled vines, like askew power lines spread around the city. He'd dug and lit a secret base in the side of one hill which was boarded so snakes wouldn't inhabit. He knew exactly the plains to visit in the wet season, and he always put food on the table except for when…

Cloud swallowed, and tried to shake himself from that trailing thought. He was gone now, and he mose well get used to Midgar, because he'd be seeing a lot of it. Self-pity was pointless. The wall-clock said it was almost dinner time and Cloud ambled into the mess hall, grabbing a bowl of stew and letting himself be served, taking a seat in the corner table he'd been yesterday. Wait, was it this one or the one beside? Oh well.

A towering, growling hulk of a boy approached Cloud. "Fuck off," he said, and Cloud quickly made away.

"Oi, I knows you," said another, lanky and thin with a toothy, yellow smile."Youse the lark that stuffed up the hall meeting, aint you? Thinks he's a bigshot, this one."

"Is too," the real life incredible hulk realized.

"Let's teach him a lesson," the third, casually and ominously, without even a crack of the knuckles, resolved.

Cloud moved left, and was pushed back into the table behind, and tried to shove past in the gap between them. The hulk easily caught Cloud between his massive fingers and Cloud lost it.

He grabbed for the bowl of searing hot stew left on the table and threw it straight into the hulk's face. Cloud faintly comprehended the oohs sounding from the serving counter and the chants of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as more people trailed into the messs hall but mostly he concentrated on the smell of chilli, and the fury building in the bully's face as a wad of fatty meat slipped off his nose.

Cloud punched as hard as he could in the idiot's chest and a hand shot out, squeezing around his neck such that Cloud gagged around it, clawing at the hard veins of skin. There was a small satisfaction in seeing them take and draw blood.

And then the cronies forced the hulk off of Cloud, and they held him against the table, gasping for breath.

The hulk's fist swung back and the first punch smacked into Cloud's jaw, sending blood pounding through his mouth. The next hit his stomach. His lung. An awful pain seared in Cloud's head and he screwed up his eyes, pulling his muscles taught through the pain.

The third blow struck his stomach again and Cloud choked, spluttering blood all over the hulk's arm.

He heard the cheers – finish it, end him, fucker – and he bit the whimper that ran through his throat. If he could just get below the table… shove them away.

He'd last.

"What in the fucking name of _Jesus's shit_ is going on here!"

The hall fell silent like a bomb and the dark shadow of person came off of Cloud, letting the bright scorch of the overhead light sear into his brain.

"You fucking imbeciles," the voice declared. "Fuck if I'll see you get into Soldier. What the hell kind of team spirit you call that? I hope you bags of shit all get fucking annilated in the fucking war and fucked up the ass by dying wogs. You know the fucking rules, and you pull massive stunts like this!"

The voice pierced through Cloud's brain and ears and humiliated, he shut his eyes and let himself be done away with.

By the next time he opens them and is conscious enough to care for his surroundings, the lights are dim. A hand rests heavy against his throbbing head, but as Cloud starts to stir, it retreats back away.

"Ma?" he wonders, staring into the siouhette.

"Wow, he really pulled a number on you, Cloud," the fair-haired boy said, and Cloud squinted across.

"Arklan?" Cloud asked. "What happened?"

"You got slaughtered," another voice said. "Slaughtered and spat back out."

"Nice imagery," said Cloud, wincing. All the insults of the teacher were still flying through his head.

"I'm not your mother, by the way," Arklan said. "But Shears here can be your sugar daddy if you want."

Shears shut him up with a glare.

Cloud chuckled. "S'okay, I think I can tell the difference." He groaned, grimacing as his dry throat stuck. "Shit, I hate my life."

"I would too if I just got flattened." Cloud shot him a look, and the boy grinned. "Pummeled, ruined, owned… whatever you want to call it. Nurse told us to ask if you're in any pain."

"Well, your existence kind of pains me," Cloud said, lying back down.

"Ouch."

"You gotta admit, you do deserve it." Sears.

Cloud raised his eyebrows. "And this would be why…?"

"No reason," Arklan said quickly. "So Cloud, tell us, just what kind of idiot are you, picking a fight with an idiot twice your size? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't pick on him, he picked it with me."

"What's the bloody difference? You still got bashed." The least offensensive word of the lot hung in the air for a moment, somehow more cutting than anything said beforehand.

Cloud cleared his throat. "So what are you guys doing here?"

"Supporting a vulnerable friend in desperate need!" Arklan cried, clutching his heart. "Also, cutting class."

"Yeah, cutting class," Shears said.

Arklan scowled at Shears. "He so is not. He wanted to talk to you about that damn book of his you stole."

"Did not."

"He really did," Arklan said confidentially to Cloud. "I could just tell."

"Sorry about that," Cloud told Shears. "I thought it was Mitchell's."

"Call him Mitch," Arklan interrupted.

"No harm done," said Shears. He coughed. "Did you like it?"

"I knew it!" Arklan declared, jumping up. "He _so_ wanted to talk to you about that book. He was like busting to have a chat about it the moment he realized you read it."

"Oh, shut up," Shears said, turning pink. It looked quite an awful colour on the bulky boy.

"I did like it," Cloud said. "I thought the woodcutter sounded like a bit of a dick, though. I liked the part where they climbed the trees together the best."

"Me too."

An odd, half-whimsical silence filled the sick room, until Arklan broke it plonking back down. "News straight off the grape vine is you've befriended a Third Class!"

"A what?"

"A third-class Soldier," Arklan repeated dubiously. "You sure you didn't bang your head too hard in that fight, sonny-boy?"

"Uhh, yeah," Cloud said. "Me and Zack… I guess you could say that. Zack's going to train me, or so he says. Somehow I doubt his prowess in the field."

Shears straightened a bit, and Arklan's eyes grew wide. "Shut up. You don't mean Zack Fair?"

Cloud's brows furrowed. "Is that bad?"

"Hell no!" Arklan declared. "That's like the best thing that could possibly happen to you! It is Zack Fair, right? Oh my god, Samuel and Eric are going to be _shitting_ themselves right now. Lucky fucking you, Cloud."

"Oh good," Cloud said blankly. "More gossip fodder."

"No offense, but you kind of asked for it," Arklan replied. "Zack Fair," he said dreamily. "Did you know he's the youngest existing Soldier member to join the program apart from the general? And he got a hundred and one percent on his application test, and they call him the squatter outside of his unit because not only can he shoot, he can do more squats in less seconds than any other Soldier combined?"

Cloud and Shears shared a look and Cloud couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. "Oh, he would," he replied in a level voice and folded his arms.

A fist rapped on the door. "If you're well enough to laugh, I think you're well enough to get out," the nurse said, and slammed it.

The cadets stared. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the lab coat this morning," Arklan quipped, and held a hand out to Cloud, who jumped up. Shears muttered something about blondes and being idiots.

"So's this mean you have to go back to class?" he wondered.

Arklan shrugged. "They'll never know. Walk you back?"

"To where?" Cloud replied.

"Wherever you want to go." Home was certainly a long walk away.

"To the front door of the building then." Maybe he could go to Zack's house and take shelter. Or demand him to teach stupid hulk-head a lesson and not him.

"What happened to the guys who did it?" Cloud didn't have to specify.

Arklan carefully shrugged, and Shear's face darkened. "Two weeks detention, suspension. A black mark on their personal profile, a month with no lessons."

Cloud stopped short. "A suspension? Are they fucking serious?"

"Cloud—" Arklan reached a hand out to him, but Cloud batted it away.

"No! That's fucking _ridiculous_. I can't believe they'd do that to me, after what just happened."

Arklan met his eye. "Well what else do you expect them to do?" he said levelly.

"I don't know," Cloud said, "an expulsion?"

"Yeah, and what fucking good will that do," Arklan said. "Then those guys will be back on the streets with utterly defenceless people, and no one to kick them back down when they get too cocky."

Cloud glowered at him, and Arklan made to sneer-

"Whoa whoa whoa," Shears said. "Settle, guys. We don't want any more trouble on record today. Or tears." He said the last part in a mutter, but Cloud caught it.

"Tears?" he said. "Who cried?"

"James," Arklan said bitterly. "When he saw what happened to you. I guess he thought it was noble or some shit. 'Cause none of us stepped in. Honestly, that guy's the biggest puss-"

"Arklan," Shears said quietly, and the blonde stopped.

"Anyway," Cloud said forcibly, as they reached the front door, "thank you guys for being there. Even if it was just to skip class—"

"Listen," Shears said. "More people would've come if the nurse let us. Craig and Mitch and the nice guys from Materia class. Eric was watching us very carefully at breakfast and our combat teacher won't cut us any slack."

"Thanks," Cloud said, and meant it. "I think I can see my way from here."

Just as soon as the doors closed Cloud regretted it, even though he knew he couldn't have taken the others with him to the train station. After yesterday he just felt so _exposed_ and knowing those guys could jump him again at any time, that he wouldn't have a class around to protect him…

It was wrong. The hulk, Eric, if that was his name, would have killed him. If the others hadn't ripped him off of Cloud, if it wouldn't have been able to ruin his entire carreer… shit, maybe even if it had. He would have closed his hands around Cloud's throat and kept squeezing until he held a lifeless white body before him. Cloud knew that, and the knowledge burned him.

Wasn't this civilized society? Wasn't that attempted murder? Cloud passed the stupid corner store and spat in the shop window because he could. He hated this world. Guys like that should be in jail. Guys like that shouldn't be alive, they should be left on death row like puppies at the local pound.

He walked onto the train without buying a ticket, willing to risk the penalty from the officer. What did it even matter if he got caught? His shorts were blue, the soles of his feet were stained black and he'd been wearing the same top for two days now. Cloud wrinkled his nose. Maybe when he got to Zack's house in Sector Five he could ask to use his shower. He stepped off the train and began to stride to the house, thinking it a small miracle he'd managed to find it without a map the first time. Honestly, Midgar was such a big city… So many people, so many dark alleys…

Cloud stopped._This is ridiculous,_ he told himself. _You could be hit by a car at any time, and you're worried about the small likelihood some thugs are following you wanting revenge? If it happens it happens, and worrying about it isn't going to make it any less likely._

All in all it wasn't a very reassuring pep talk, and by the time the odd couple (potentional murderers!) let him through to Zack his heart was racing like a chocobo. He stood outside the apartment door, knocked twice. When it didn't open and he couldn't turn around Cloud panicked, twisted the handle and burst straight in.

Zack was there, lying on the couch, eyes fluttering near shut and arm outstretched.

"Did it hurt?"

The murmur was so low Cloud almost didn't catch it. "Yes," he replied, thinking of the blows. "God, yes." He didn't know what moved him to confide it.

Zack's eyes flickered open. "I thought it would, if you fell from heaven."


	5. Chapter 5

Cloud gawked. His hands flew up in a hapless gesture and he collapsed against the doorframe, sighing to himself. Once he had gathered his wits he straightened, and pointed an accusing finger at Zack.

"Right," he said determinately. "We are going to talk about this. Right now. If you're going to be training me, I can't have you mocking me all the time. Not after yesterday."

"What's yesterday?" Zack asked, sitting up.

"We went to lunch yesterday," Cloud covered, folding his arms. "I don't go to lunch with people who insult me about my appearance like that."

"We'll just have to go somewhere else then," Zack said reasonably, picking at some spilled Chinese food. "Wait, when was I insulting you?"

Cloud harrumphed. "Try the whole time."

Zack frowned in thought. "Don't remember. I must be one of those subconscious insulters," he decided astutely. "Jeez, maybe Hojo _is_ right about my mental condition."

"Don't play dumb with me," Cloud accused, grabbing Zack's arm as he moved to walk away. "You did it just then, calling me an angel. Do you think it's funny, playing with my emotions like that?"

Zack stopped, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you think-" he paused, staring into Cloud's solemn face. "It wasn't supposed to be insulting. I meant it seriously."

"Oh, because you seriously believe I'm an angel?" Cloud said scornfully.

"Yes," Zack replied, and then bit his lip. "Well, no, you're obviously human, but that wasn't what I meant. The first time I saw you…"

"Go on," Cloud said uncompromisingly.

"I thought I was dead," Zack finished. "I thought they hadn't scraped my body back off the floor in Wutai, where I was dying at the time, and when I opened my eyes you were there, pale skin and small frame, light hair and impossibly blue eyes. It was a sunny day I remember, and you were backlit from the window so that it looked like a halo formed around your head. I really thought – don't laugh, man – I really thought you were an angel. A-and then I started thinking about how dead I was and all the people I'd never see again, like Angeal…"

Cloud's anger instantly faded, and he moved to hug Zack. Cloud was smaller than the Soldier and his hands met around the small of Zack's back. The man was shaking lightly and Cloud buried his head in his neck, hiding his shame. God, he was such a fuck up.

"No, it's okay," Zack said, but he returned the hug. "I mean, obviously they told me I was still alive and all, and I figured out I could visit everyone and I went and did, but the whole time I wasn't sure if you were even real or not. They had me under deep. I felt so bad for lumping that on you though and I thought I should seek you out anyway and apologize, but it didn't really work that way because you were waiting with James and all grumpy and shit."

Cloud laughed into Zack's chest. He had been a bit, looking back.

"Yeah. So I just thought if I could remind you how amazing you seem to me you might feel a bit better about yourself. Don't get me wrong, it was pretty funny too. I mean, who wakes up in a waiting room and thinks they've died and gone to heaven? But when I heard what happened to you yesterday… I just got so _angry_ you know, and I didn't know what to do when I saw you. Then I just thought if I could put your mind on other things you might be a bit happier for it, and you kind of walked into the line when you entered."

Cloud drew back, running a self-appraising hand through his matted hair. "Yeah, I guess you could say I did," he replied, and paused. Did he apologize now?

"Anyway, I'm sorry about that," Zack told him. "I didn't think you would take it that way."

"Don't worry about it," Cloud dismissed, giving the Soldier a small smile. He wrung his hands, suddenly feeling nervous. "Umm, can I use your shower? I mean, I didn't think earlier…"

"Go ahead," Zack allowed, and Cloud moved into the adjourning hallway. The first door was a cupboard, and Cloud took a stripy towel out. It had a lot more character than the modern, pastel-coloured ones.

The door after that was Zack's room, oddly clean with the bed made and floor cleared. It proffered a clean, pine scent and Cloud frowned and looked back down the hallway. Yep, the living room was definitely still a pigsty. Weird.

The last room was actually the right one and Cloud stepped inside, shuddering at the feeling of his bare feet against the cold tiles. It was very bright white and Cloud had to blink a few times to make the feeling go away. Their bathroom back home was hardly as sterile or streamlined and Cloud was slightly off put by the amount of time the hot water actually took to turn warm.

Cloud snickered, finding bottles of shampoo stacked tenuously on the flat showerhead. Zack was such a retard. Honestly, what was wrong with the floor?

His cock quickly rose to the occasion with the different sensation and Cloud willed it back down, trying to think of something shudder worthy. He was _not _jerking off in Zack Fair's shower, even if he hadn't had a single chance to since leaving Nibelheim with the cadet's company. Sighing, Cloud gave up and just turned off the hot tap. He shivered at the run of cold water down his back and wrung his wet hair into the sink once he stepped out.

It always felt gross putting on dirty clothes when you were dry and clean but Cloud couldn't seem to tear his mind from the fact he'd just used Zacks' preferred colourful towel. It was washed and stuff but Cloud kept thinking about how Zack probably ran it over himself like Cloud did, rubbing it into his legs and the underside of his thighs and around his balls… God, he was such a creep. Cloud folded the towel back on its rack and very earnestly focused on remembering how Zack was telling Cloud he was never home, and never used anything he owned ever. That probably included the towel. Cloud very pointedly did not consider the bedroom and its cleanliness as how he considered how things could be used.

Zack was sitting at the glass kitchen table, and all the junk had been shoved off to accommodate actual food. Fresh fruit and scones and pancakes… Cloud's mouth watered.

"You look kind of flustered, Cloud," said Zack as he sat down. "Anything up?"

"I'm fine," Cloud squeaked.

Zack looked back at him and smirked. "You can have some, you know. I didn't order this big platter just for myself."

"Order?" Queried Cloud, reaching for the honey.

Zack wiped some whipped cream off his chin. "The wonders of room service. Every time I try to cook something good it catches fire."

Cloud looked back towards the massive piles of take out. "Ahh."

"Explains a lot, huh?" Zack loaded another pancake onto his plate and grinned. "Back at home mum'd never make this stuff. And whenever she did the whole extended family would get together with some lousy excuse to eat it."

"Do you have a big family?" Cloud asked, taking a bite of his invented concoction. To his surprise, jams and syrup tasted good together.

"Not really," Zack admitted. "It was mostly just me and my mum and uncle growing up, the others all lived by themselves. Probably with good reason too, uncle Patrick was always a touch eccentric."

Cloud grinned. "Is that where you get it from?"

Zack, mouth full, made an offended noise and reached over to swat Cloud, who gave him a Wutanese burn.

Finally Zack swallowed, and he rubbed his sore arm. "What was that for?"

"Payback," Cloud explained in a word.

"I must've given you a lump sum." Zack rolled his shoulders and looked back, upside down, over them to the window behind. It was amazing how far his back could stretch.

"What are you doing now?" laughed Cloud.

"Examining the skyline from a different perspective," Zack explained. "This way, if we ever get bombed from above I'll be the first to know."

"Midgar getting bombed is ridiculous," Cloud said. "Shinra would never stand for it. They'd find out the perpetrators and nuke their guts out."

"Shinra deactivated all their atomic bombs a long time ago," Zack said. "It was part of a treaty with the Eastern Nations."

"So they say."

Zack raised his upturned head back to Cloud, assessing his gaze. "What, don't you believe Shinra's endless platitudes? Think President Shinra is just taking the old mickey on us?"

"Why wouldn't he, if he could get away with it?" Cloud replied, setting his cutlery down on his plate.

"Umm, because he's the President?"

"Whatever." Cloud pulled his chair back, taking his plate back to the sink.

Zack tactically (or maybe it was accidentally, considering it was Zack he was talking about) didn't press it, leaning back in his seat and looking back over his head again. "Hey, so when do you want to start that training session I was talking about?"

"Maybe never?" Cloud said hopefully, and at the returning look ducked into the hallway, preparing for a hasty exit.

"Too bad." Zack ran up grabbed his arm, dragging him back out into the open. "You're not getting away with this one, little buddy. I am going to train you if I have to drag you feet first into the training centre to do it. So let's go!"

Cloud sighed, thinking it much too early for physical exertion, and let himself be pulled outside. Try as he might, he couldn't summon up any type of dread for the ride, which looked to be a shiny black motorbike with massive wheels!

"Oh whoops," said Zack, "must've opened the driveway door by mistake. Here's the button." He pressed an appendage off his keys and the driveway closed, house locking itself up.

"I hate you," Cloud muttered scornfully.

"None of that now Cloudie-boy," said Zack with an insufferably wide grin. "Think of all the exercise you'll be getting from walking?"

"How many sectors?" Cloud said, feeling slightly disoriented.

Zack grinned manically. "Only eight. We could cut across lengthwise but _that_ would be cheating."

"_Eight sectors?"_ Cloud echoed. "I'll be dead by the time we even get there. So much for getting trained."

"Consider this the beginning of your training," suggested Zack, taking a big step forward in the assumed right direction.

Cloud trailed after him disbelievingly. "Look, this is ridiculous. I don't know why you don't want to take the shortcut but walking all that way will waste valuable energy that could be used on other things. Like combat! You see, karate masters aren't just guys who walk places."

Zack looked back at Cloud in amusement. "Alright then, if you're that against it. But you owe me one."

Cloud privately thought he owed Zack enough. "What about this. You could take the long way and I could take the short cut and we'd both win," Cloud offered.

Zack's eyes gleamed. "Like a race?"

"I guess you could call it tha-" but that was word enough apparently, as Zack took off like a shot down the street.

Cloud smiled to himself, then realized – "_damnit_, I never asked him where we're going." Well that was dumb of him. Cloud rubbed the sleep out of one eye, considering the possibilities. Either Zack was back at the cadet hall to train him (not likely, since that was a few sectors away) or he was in some nearby sector or he was in the main Shinra HQ in Sector Zero. Probably the latter, as Zack hadn't really mentioned anything about training on the streets and there weren't any other Shinra buildings in Midgar that he knew of—and he'd been very careful to ask, that first day).

Idly Cloud weaved through the backstreets, seemingly walking in an endless circle until he found the right one. The expansive lofts on the wayside were drowned out by the thin, clawing, apartments opposite and as Cloud slowly got somewhere, they grew gradually more destitute. Cloud burst into a main road, panting as he realized he'd sped up, claustrophobic around the blackened buildings.

Cloud shuddered subconsciously. If this was what the Plate housing was like, full of the richest most plentiful people in the world, he hated to imagine how the slums were. He wouldn't call the plate overcrowded, exactly, but all these buildings meant there had to be an expanse of people _somewhere_. Unless these buildings were all owned by just the one person and they had more room than what anyone needed… and that would probably be true, too. The Middle and the West were lands of extremes; extreme poverty, extreme wealth, extreme sprawl, extreme constraint. Cloud hated it.

He rounded the corner into the tunnel, which drew him across into the heart of Sector Zero. And this was it, tourist promise land, the heart of Midgar, where fountains were as large as staircases, and the massive city squares formed spirals around the great rising peak of the central tower, sided by the original Shinra headquarters… Cloud shook his head. Shinra was overtaking his life. He should probably just think of the expensive shopping malls with their diamond-studded notebooks and designer-made whatevers.

The cadet was moving into a main street now, where bodies shouldered him every footstep, and he was definitely taking back his previous statement, the plate was _so_ overcrowded. Cloud pulled his arms into his chest, and bore the stiletto heels on his bare feet without complaint. A few eyes slighted him, narrowed at the sight of his cadet shorts and t-shirt, still drying hair, and Cloud shrank into himself.

He fled into a side-street, collapsing against the lane wall as the breath escaped him in pants. He had never imagined there would be so many people in the world. He'd been an idiot to think the school bullies could follow him. Cloud sat down against the side of an open dumpster, thinking he'd catch up with Zack later. Suddenly, watching the never-ceasing swarm of people traffic, he started to feel tired. Surely it couldn't hurt to fall asleep for a few minutes now? The smell wasn't that bad. And who knew, maybe some sorry citizen would watch and take pity on him. He probably looked like a homeless like this. Were homeless even allowed above the plate?

And then Cloud was yanked awake by his shirt. "Finally found you," said the older boy, his smile breaking into an open snarl. "Just wait until I call the boss."

"Like hell you will," said Cloud, and smashed the other boy across the face. The older boy cried out and stumbled back, and Cloud took the element of surprise and threw him into the wall. The older boy's head slammed into the wall, and bounced back hard enough to give him a concussion.

Enraged, he kneed Cloud in the balls and Cloud doubled over and then threw his hands up as the other boy lunged for him. They wrestled against the wall. Cloud, still half-tired, thought it a losing battle and covered his face.

Wait.

Cloud grabbed for the other boy and in one fluid movement hurled him by his stomach into the dumpster.

"I hope you like bin juice," Cloud spat, and slammed the lid closed.

Enraged, Cloud stormed back into the main street and through the crowd, gnashing his teeth all the while. He _knew_ this would happen. He told them all, but no, the superiors commanded it, there had to be a reason blah blah blah. Fucking bullshit. And now he didn't know where to find Zack and Zack was probably going to be pissed at him, and those _idiots_ were probably still tailing him, and fuck this, he was tired of walking. If Zack wasn't in the Shinra building and a bunch of Shinra people couldn't protect Cloud from a few lethal bullies then Cloud would bloody go reactivate those bombs himself and blow it up for the rest of them.

Cloud strode into the reception area and then back out, and then into the gift store. The attendant promptly dropped her armful of shirts in fear and Cloud looked for the first notebook he could find.

"Look at this," Cloud said loudly, waving the thing around. "Weak binding. Tacky design. The paper looks like it could fall to pieces at the flick of a finger. And you have the audacity to _stock_ this terrible merchandise? I don't know what the hell's wrong with you."

A hand laid rest on Cloud's shoulder, and for one terrible moment, he thought it was the bodyguard come to kick him out.

"I absolutely agree," Zack Fair said. "Shinra is really going to the dogs if it sells lesser-quality notebooks like these. The sizing is poor. Why the paper cover looks like it's about to crawl right out of it. I have to insist you send these back to manufacturing for the sake of the company at once."

"Oh-okay," the attendant agreed, picking the shirts up from where she'd dropped them. Her hands shook with the presence of so much determination. "I'll do that at once, mister Soldier sir."

"Please, call me Zack," said Zack in his most aristocratic voice, and Cloud felt the stretch of his cheeks as he put his head in his hands. How embarrassing… and he'd really been gearing up for an argument too.

The attendant dubiously, under their supervision, took the notebooks out and up behind the back counter. Zack brushed his hands off and turned to Cloud. "Another good deed done," he declared, folding his arms. "About ready to hit the gym, heaven sent?"

Cloud hit him, sighed, and resigned himself to retelling the story as they walked up to the elevator taking them upstairs. Zack was very amused to hear about the dumpster incident, and speculated the other boy's reaction to being found, dressed and stinking like a sewer.

"I bet he wished you just killed him instead," Zack supposed, swiping his card through a door lock. "I bet he was just lying there cursing you out the whole time. Can you imagine his face as he approached the bin… 'Wha—noooo_oo_ooooo!" Zack mimed a swan dive.

"Oh shut up Zack," said Cloud, mortified with embarrassment by now. "I'm sure it happens to like everyone sooner or later."

"Well it's sure as hell never happened to me. _God_." Zack said god like gawd, even as he flipped through all the hi tech switches on the wall. An evil grin spread across Zack's face. "Hey, you want to make virtual copies of those thug guys and beat them up?"

"Zack!" Cloud squealed, outraged. "_No_."

"Okay okay, just asking." Zack flipped a button and threw on a helmet- green data swirled around Cloud's head as he slid on his own.

They were standing at the edge of a cliff, near a forest, sudden wind swirling thin leaves around their faces, catching their hair and clothes. Over the jagged edge, which curved into itself with a yielding stubbornness, a pit of lava bubbled, hot and stinking. Cloud imagined he saw one leaf seared to a crisp within it, and swallowed hard into his throat.

"Zack, if we die here, does it really hur-"

Cloud had no time to finish his question as a swarm of insects raced out of the forest, slamming into the both of them. He screamed.

"This is a test of adaptability, and quick-thinking," An unperturbed Zack explained, batting the bees away with his massive sword. "Good luck." With that he bounced with inhuman speed up a willow and off into the sunset.

"I'm allergic to bee stings you dickhead!" Cloud yelled after him, chasing through the forest. The swarm followed after _him_ of course and not Zack and Cloud dearly wished he'd brought bug-spray.

That was stupid, why would he bring bug spray into a virtual game? Tree branches assailed his exposed skin, clawing, as the bush became denser. No turning back. If only. If only there was some way to lead the bees into the lava somehow he could escape their stingers and not swell up like a puffer fish on seafood night. Keep running.

"Shit, shit shit." Cloud swore to himself. He had to stop-a lava pool broke his path ahead.

The bees approached.

Cloud whipped around at once. He instantly knew.

He didn't have to _lead_ the bees in there…

Cloud ripped a branch off of a nearby tree, dipped it in the lava and flung it with all his might at the angry bees. Their buzzes escalated in pitch and they flew faster in dizzying circles and at him, flaming bees on fire, holy fucking god. Cloud did his best to swat at the bees with his hands as Zack did with his sword, but he was just pissing them off mostly and one sped _right at his face_.

The world exploded in pain and Cloud felt his throat close up and his skin break out, unbearably itchy, his feet gave way and before he realized his mistake Cloud was falling back into the lava pool.

Cloud snapped awake in a cold sweat, on the floor of the training room. His helmet was still on and beyond its viser the piping of this industrial room sneered at him.

"You did well," Zack's voice said, shocking him out of his stupor.

Cloud ripped his helmet off. "What _the merciful fuck_ were you thinking sticking me in that situation without orders? What kind of sadistic bastard are you?"

"In real life, there are going to be times when you must go without orders. You can't always rely on other people."

"Well I know I can't bloody rely on you!" Cloud cried, and Zack flinched. "Sorry."

Zack shrugged it off. "I know you don't believe me now, but I wasn't honestly expecting it to go that badly. All I was trying to point out is sometimes you have to work a bit independent. Following assigned orders is all well and great but when it comes down to it in a battle situation that's your life on the line. That's one thing they shouldn't be able to beat out of your skull, but they do."

Cloud pointedly ignored the sombre tone. "So you didn't know I was allergic to bees?"

"Swear I didn't. The bees weren't even meant to come in that early." Zack stopped and looked over. "You're a mountain-boy with mountain genes, how are you allergic to bee stings?"

"It doesn't matter. Tell me what you meant to do with that scenario."

"Well," said Zack, "for one thing you were supposed to run the opposite direction to what you actually did, not actually through the woods where they came out of. Not the best idea to run towards something another thing is running from. After you went wend down the actual path, you were supposed to be faced with the option of running a wind farm and blasting the bees away or locking yourself in a hut and waiting it out.

"To be fair," said Zack, "I was watching over you the whole time, the canopy was just very thick. By the time I realized you were heading towards the lava pit you were throwing a flaming stick at them and there wasn't much I could do after that."

"Oh," Cloud said. He continued resentfully; "you know your training sessions aren't very conventional."

Zack elaborately shrugged. "Plenty of time for conventional later, Cloud. I'll teach you everything you need to know in a roundabout way if you really cared to know it."

Cloud digested this. "Can we end the training early today, do you think?"

"Yeah, I think," Zack replied. "Normally I'd go over tactical strategies with you, but I think we can call it quits for today."

"Alright," said Cloud, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll just go now then."

"Wait a minute."

Cloud stopped short. He watched as Zack procured a small black slip from his pocket, a pager like the ones Soldier used.

"Snagged this out of the inventory box thing they have at work, but I don't need a spare. Figure you can use it to text me about training times, if you still want to do it, or anything that comes up."

Cloud choked down a small piece of his grudge. "Thank you," he said, taking the proffered instrument.

"Just one thing," Zack said. "I know you've been getting hell from those idiots, and Trisha's been heckling to take someone down a size for months. If they show up again just give me a text and I'll give them what for, okay? You're not a Super Soldier yet."

Cloud nodded, and on that parting note they split, and that was that. Taking the train back to the station Cloud couldn't help but think Zack was worth his weight in notebooks.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! New chapter for you. Sorry about the wait of epic proportions, things have been happening. Half tempted to call this chapter 'trouble in paradise'.

I hope you've all had a great Christmas with awesome presents :D Have a happy FVII New Year, too.

* * *

><p>Cloud was told that evening that <em>under no certain conditions<em> was a cadet meant to leave their bag in the holding area for three days and if he didn't go pick it up tomorrow it would be out with the trash.

He meant to pick it up after dinner, really he did, but after enduring an impromptu work out with the drill seargent -"involuntary suspension is no excuse to get out of _my_ class, cadet," – and then a power play over soup with Mitch, all he felt like doing was sleeping for eternity. He excused himself early, stumbled out of the mess hall and to his room, and literally fell into a coma on his thin, lumpy mattress. It was a miracle he avoided certain death passing the Hulk's table.

Oh, and that he reawakened from his coma just in time for breakfast.

Or a little _too_ just in time for breakfast if the soft darkness in the room was anything to go by (the dorms had no windows, which made everything feel like constant day).

Shit, Cloud realized. He hadn't picked up his bags from the holding bay.

Cloud moseyed to the reception desk without a shirt on, thinking in a panic if they'd thrown his bag in the big bins he might have to go dumpster diving.

The evil lady was back at the reception desk. El sigh.

"What do you want and how do you want it?" she was saying into her phone in a simpering tone of voice.

Wait, Cloud thought with sudden glee, he didn't have to approach her. They'd said on the first day their bags were all out around Head Office. This was awesome. There weren't any bins around Head Office.

He arrived there as the door opened, and a disgruntled-looking Shinra employee shouldered his bag.

"I'll be taking that," Cloud said a little pompously, as he made past.

The dude stared. "Well it's about time. Right on the minute. Jeez, how long does it take you to pick one friggin bag up?" He threw it across.

Cloud made a protesting sound. "I'll have you know I've been very busy with my schedule." Which consisted of sleeping, bludging, and going to Zack's house he silently added.

"Well that's lovely, princess. Unfortunately Mario's needed in another castle." He went back inside with a sneer and slam of the door.

Cloud didn't let it get to him. _I actually did it, _he thought to himself merrily. _I put it off to the last second and got away with it._ And that was what procrastination was all about.

Considerably less panicked Cloud re entered his dorm, plunking his bag down next to the bed. That was when he heard a strange curse coming from down the hallway. He checked the beds—no, it wasn't awake time yet. What was going on down there?

Feeling like every stupid lead character in every horror play ever made, Cloud crept down the hallway towards where the sound was coming from. The floorboards didn't creak because there were no floorboards but the linoleum stuck to his feet like it was afraid for him.

The racket became louder as he approached.

"Hello…?" Cloud called, pressing forward the closed doorway. Darkness, he couldn't see anything. Cloud groped for a light switch, heart hammering in his chest, waiting for something to spring into the open and—

Light. Cloud blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sight, world swimming out of greys and blues.

"Shears?" he wondered. "What are you doing in here?"

The large boy was hulked over wires, fuses and scrap metal, sitting in front of the toilet.

"Nothing," the boy said hurriedly. "Just tryna fix my clock. It broke, you know. Last night."

"Bullshit," Cloud replied. "We weren't allowed to bring clocks."

There was an awkward pause, where Shears looked ready to continue the bluff.

"Are you going to tell?" he asked, standing up over his stuff. Cloud noticed his hands were shaking.

"Depends what you tell me," Cloud replied cryptically.

Shears met his eyes. "I'm serious," he said. "If you tell, I will bash you."

"Do that and I'll turn you in for sure," Cloud threatened. "You think my suspension is just for show?"

Shears shook a hand through his hair, agitated. "Fine. But I'm warning you, if you don't have ears for this shit you aren't gonna like the consequences. I'm not going to cater to condescension because you're not tough enough to handle it."

Cloud snorted, at that. "Just tell me your deal already," he said genially.

"I'm making a bomb," Shears revealed. When that failed to stir and or shock the blonde, he plodded on. "I was put here to get revenge for a personal attack made on a friend of mine. This is the closest way to get to them."

Cloud slowly nodded. "And you're going to set it off today, right?"

"Yeah," Shears said. "This is the anniversary of… never mind."

"No, tell me," Cloud coaxed.

"What are your thoughts on Shinra?" Shears hazarded.

Cloud grinned. "Well he's not my favourite person in the world… Oh _shit._ Oh no way. You're going to blow up the president."

Shears grabbed him by the collar. "You don't tell anyone. No one knows. Or this bomb goes off right here right now."

Cloud ignored him. "How the hell are you going to get past the security? I can't believe a _cadet_ would try this. You must be insane! Or really full of yourself. Or suicidal."

"Call me what you want," Shears said. "I'm still going to do it. And it's Shinra the company, not the president. Idiot. How dumb do I look to you?"

His acquaintance opened his mouth to answer.

"Rhetorical," Shears interrupted. "Anyway, that's the deal. I've got three hours to blow up headquarters in sector Zero. Are you in, or are you out?"

Cloud considered. His mother would really hate him for it. But she wasn't here now. Zack would probably kill him for the idea alone… But Shinra. Horrible, terrible, Shinra.

"In."

Shears smiled up at him in that half-relieved half-paranoid way. "Welcome aboard. And collect that wire switchboard stuff, we're leaving in exactly now."

Cloud had never considered himself a terrorist. In fact, he considered himself very pro-peace until now, what with his super reluctance to join the army (although it could be argued that feeling stemmed from a self-preservation instinct). But he considered the prospect of Shinra's HQ destruction excitedly right now, even as worry settled in the pit of his stomach.

"So," he small talked as they maneuverer the large backpack onto the train. "How big will it be? I mean the whole thing or just part? It—it won't kill anyone will it?"

"No one who won't deserve it," Shears replied, and at Cloud's alarmed look, replied: "chill. No one's going to die. It'll only screw up this one floor. Most people won't be in at four in the mourning anyway. Just the soldiers, the secretaries, and the pigs working overtime."

A pregnant woman looked very affronted when Cloud didn't give her his seat. Shears watched her pass through the hissing carriage door and lowered his voice a notch. "You don't have to do this, you know. You can still back out."

"No, I want to."

Shears gave him a searching look and Cloud's phone unexpectedly went off.

_Rise and shine, angelhead,_ Zack's text read. Cloud tried to cover it but Shears snatched it out of his hands.

"Zack Fair, huh?" Shears pressed a few buttons and the phone switched to silent. "I can tell you're _so_ anti-Shinra, befriending all the upcoming soldiers."

"Upcoming?" Cloud repeated dubiously. That was the second person who'd said Zack was good. "And hey, _he_ befriended _me._ I just wanted to see if the soldiers were all as bad as they seem."

Shears snorted. "That'd be right." He threw the phone back.

"I'm serious. I think they're disgusting people. I don't know why they follow the orders they do, you can't just _not get_ how evil Shinra is with all the schemes they make. Did you know Shinra senior gave himself an executive bonus of two million last year? And they built a second reactor over people's homes when they didn't move in Rocket Town?"

Shears didn't look convinced. "Yeah, of course they're bloody unfair. But I wouldn't risk my life like this if that was all I thought. Everyone's unfair. Our combat teacher's unfair. _Why_ are you doing this, Cloud?"

Cloud bit his lip. He hadn't told anyone this. "My father was shot, for leading the protest against the reactor they were setting up beside our town. I mean he was cheating on my ma anyway, but I guess I never really got over the thought. It was a peaceful protest. And they just bloody…" He curled his fists.

"Yeah, me too," Shears said. Cloud looked over at him in surprise.

"I mean he wasn't protesting or anything," Shears corrected. "My dad loved Shinra, even though it made our lives living shit. He'd always come back from work all cheerful and stuff. But we were making nothing and the only way for us to pay the bills was for him to join the Soldier program. He got fucking mauled by a fucking Acrophies in Carral Valley. And they got orders to go, and just left him. They fucking left him to die. That's why I hate them. That's why I'm going to see Shinra dead."

"Oh," Cloud said mildly. "I'm sorry." He'd misjudged Shears. How could someone so quiet and amiable have such a dark side to him?

"Forget it."

The train clanked as they went over a particularly rough piece of track. "So what's the plan?" Cloud asked.

"Well I was going to sneak in from underground and bomb the elevator shaft," Shears said. "But now I have a better idea."

Cloud entered the headquarters lobby under the watchful eye of three separate cameras. He stalled around a framed painting, bought some chips from a vending machine and grinned and waved when Zack came down to meet him. "Ready for our training session?"

The cadet nodded and gestured to the chips with an energy drink. Zack snorted, and Cloud allowed himself a smile. He suspected nothing.

"I've got to say Cloudy-boy," Zack said as they made their way towards the lift, "I'm impressed you managed to take my wake up greeting so well. Not many do."

Cloud snorted. "I can see why. Also, you're impressed with your bloody self, not me."

"Damn, you caught me," Zack said. There wasn't a line for the lift, but it took a short while for the elevator to reach their floor. Cloud, who had been standing there waiting, started when the doors finally opened. He feigned realization quickly. "Sorry," he said to the doorman, removing his cap. "I borrowed this off your friend Johnny. Said he wanted it back. Could you return it to him please?"

The doorman looked a bit put out, but nodded. Shears had said they were happy to have an excuse to leave post.

Cloud entered the elevator with Zack and imagined the look on the front man's face when he realized he'd been given a hat he hadn't thought removed.

They went up with the elevator and Zack's countenance visibly improved.

"Going training going training oh yeah, bring it." He mimed a boxer's stance and began jumping up and down.

Cloud laughed, his breath releasing in a pool of nerves. "How can you move while we're rising like this?" He himself was clinging to the handrail. _Steady,_ he told himself, calm down.

"Oh, I forgot this is new to you." Zack grinned. "Need a helping hand, mama's boy?"

"Oi!" Cloud protested, kicking him.

"Oww. Don't do that. You're so mean to me, Cloudy. And come on, you were like, running a whole marathon to post one letter."

"Don't call me Cloudy." The silence became awkward. Cloud glanced back to the floor number, ten off his target, and started. "How much farther is it?"

"Lots." Zack threw an amused smirk. "Are we there yet, he asks."

Cloud bit his lip. "Zack. Seriously."

"What?"

"I like really need to pee. Too much Gatorade."

"Can't you wait?"

"There wasn't a bathroom in the lobby."

Zack cursed, and hit the emergency stop button. Floor 39. Two past. Yeah, he could manage.

"One thing," said Cloud. "I'll need your keycard."

Zack squirmed. "We're not supposed to just pass them around you know."

"_Please?_" Cloud begged. "I'll be really quick."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get through here first."

They had halted to a stop, after all. Cloud watched in mild awe as Zack wrenched open the elevator doors using his super strength.

And smirked as a panic-stricken looking Shinra officer barged into them.

"Whoa whoa whoa," said Zack. "What's the hurry?"

The man didn't reply in his haste to be away, and Zack, with a frown, stuck his head into a far adjacent doorway.

"Hey, you got directions towards the bathroom-"

"I'm very sorry, Soldier, but I have no time for your ministrations right now," a woman in a pencil skirt and an important jacket interrupted. "I'm afraid there's been a minor technical issue…"

More workers pushed through the doorway, and Cloud caught sight of a man talking very quickly on a phone.

"A _minor technical issue_?" One of the workers parroted. "There's a frigging reactor leak spilling raw mako into the streets! Because of us! You call that minor?"

The woman began to argue, and Zack attempted to calm them back down for more details. Cloud excused himself quietly, and walked down the clear corridor for the lift. Secreted in the small space between the lift and the wall, and attached to the lift was the wire board. Stretching, Cloud unstrapped the bomb and tucked it beneath his shirt.

Quickly and quietly, thought Cloud, quick and quiet. He repeted the mantra through his head as he skittered down the corridor.

Meeting room. Draft room. Head office—perfect. Cloud shut the door behind him and pulled the blinds closed. Cursing at the sight of a security camera, he grabbed a marker, uncapped it and drew over the lens. Shit, no ink. He couldn't smash it, there was an alarm. What did he do?

There was an alarm for fucking everything, Cloud decided, as a siren went off in the block, screeching into his ears. Oh shit. Had they caught him? He was so dead. He was so _fucking_ dead.

No time to waste.

Cloud planted the bomb on the table, connected the wires, turned on the phone, flipped the switch. A countdown of three minutes until automatic detonation signaled. The cadet held his breath, turned out of the room and locked the door to override with Zack's key card.

A shadow loomed over him. "What are you doing?" Zack said.

Cloud flinched back, began to shake, opened his mouth. What did he say? Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

"I was looking for the bathroom but I couldn't find it anywhere so I went into the office and peed in the pot plant but the manager called and left a message that she'll be late by half an hour when he gets there and he's probably going to arrive soon and I think we should go."

"What?" Zack said.

"I said let's go!" Cloud shouted.

He'd have to tell Shears to wipe the cameras because there was no way he was getting to the survailence floor after this Zack wasn't _supposed_ to follow after him he was supposed to get involved in company affairs and let him go to the goddamn bathroom by his goddamn self.

The lift didn't arrive. "C'mon, c'mon," pleaded Cloud.

"Are you alright?" Zack asked, taking his arm. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern and his eyes were confused.

Green eyes, mako eyes, Shinra eyes.

"Fine," Cloud whispered.

"You can talk to me you know—"

"I know."

"Talk to me."

"I," said Cloud. "I can't. Not now."

Zack drew back, his face blank. "Fine," he answered, and took his card back.

"Zack—"

"Fine," Zack repeated.

The lift arrived, and they descended floors silently.


End file.
